


Sleep is for the Weak and Clint forgets the Pizza

by 2Lazy2Bother2Login



Category: Avengers Assemble (Cartoon)
Genre: Cute, Fluff, I Will Go Down With This Ship, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Sleepy Scott
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-30
Updated: 2015-09-30
Packaged: 2018-04-24 04:42:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4905901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2Lazy2Bother2Login/pseuds/2Lazy2Bother2Login
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scott's having a hard week and maybe falls asleep while working. It's a good thing Clint swings by.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleep is for the Weak and Clint forgets the Pizza

**Author's Note:**

> I WILL GO OWN WITH THIS SHIP. I AM A CLINT/SCOTT JUNKIE, AND I AM PROUD. I WILL SAIL THIS SHIP WITH PRIDE. (If i didn't screw this entire thing up. Then I'll cry.) Also, apologies for the short length.

Rubbing the ball of his palms into his eyes, Scott Lang lets out a tired sigh. Between a sudden surge in superhuman crime in the city and a flurry of technology needed to be invented to stop the aforementioned crime, Scott acquired more juggle on top of the whole, super-dad-who-is-defiantly-not-a-prominent-thief-and-genius-mastermind-anymore gig. In other words, this week sucked and he was feeling like he had been steamrolled by the Hulk.  
With another sigh, he lowers himself into a lab chair, wincing at sudden shift of pressure on his back. After being slammed into different surfaces at different sizes all week, pain is inevitable. Scott rubs at a particular knot below the bruise caused by the second bridge they visited, contemplating if he would rather sleep or finish the research for the holding cell to contain a metahuman that could breathe fire.  
Eyeing a patch of burnt fabric on his Antman suit, he set to work.

With an arm full of pizza box and another full of dollar store soda, Clint makes his way into the depths of the nerd hive.   
“Thank you, automatic doors.” He comments as he finally reaches the small corner room that leads to Lang’s shrunken lab. The room itself held a desk with a swivel chair and an old shoe box in which the lab was actually in. Soft snores slightly startled him and his eyes widened. Long limbs laid splayed in odd directions and a mop of uncombed red hair seemed to almost curl around the desk. Quietly laying the food down, he crept around the desk to see if what he was seeing was true. Sure enough, the redhead was sleeping. A smirk found itself onto the blond man’s face.   
Reaching past a twisted up arm, Clint starts to jiggle the pen from out under Scott’s arm. All of his S.H.I.E.L.D. training has prepared him for his moment. Finally freeing the pen, he stealthily clicks it, and moves in to finish his mission.   
Suddenly, the other man groans and shifts around in the chair, a slight grimace on his face. Clint stills, not daring to breathe until the redhead stills once more. It was then Clint picked up on the deeply carved bags under Scott’s eyes and the unusually colored skin peeking out from under the top of his collar. Creeping closer, he slowly shifts the fabric aside. Dark bruises of varying shaded of blue and black paint the visible part of Scott’s neck and upper shoulders. Frowning, Hawkeye lightly grazed the discolored skin with a gentle touch.  
The blond puts down his pen and instead gathers the various loose papers and drawings strewn about. He kneels down and slowly works the boots off the shorter man’s feet and places his helmet aside where it wouldn’t get broken.   
Before he can leave, Clint is drawn back to where the other man lay. Maybe sleeping there would make his back feel worse than it does with the bruising. Maybe he hadn’t showered for the night and fell asleep before he could. Maybe he wants pizza, but he’s asleep and can’t get any. With these questions in mind, Hawkeye awakens the sleeping Avenger.   
“Hey. Hey Ant-dork.” Clint lightly pats his arm. “You need to wake up for a sec, buddy.” Scott blearily sits up looking tired and confused.   
“You fell asleep. Come on, let’s get you to bed.” Limply, the Antman allows the blond to help him stand. The redhead’s eyes seem glazed as looks at his bare feet questioningly.   
“Sh’es?” He grunts, looking around his feet for the pair of boots in questions. Quickly grabbing the boots from beside the desk, Clint takes Scott by the shoulder and leads the other man to his room. They get several questioning looks as Clint keeps Scott from stumbling into walls or people. Twice, he prevents the eminent collision of Scott’s head to the floor. Finally making it to his room, Clint lets Scott collapse on his bed, already asleep before he finished laying down.   
Clint tosses the boots on the floor and stands awkwardly. He stops and seems to have a mental battle with himself. Finally, coming to a resolve, Clint smoothly adjusts Scott’s twisted limbs and pulls the duvet over him.  
Still though, he pauses, a blush faint and almost invisible on his cheeks. Sitting at the edge of the bed, he again sets to work. He brushes his lips lightly on the back of the other man’s neck, making sure not to press too harshly. He then plants a small chaste kiss on the corner of Scott’s half-open mouth.   
As quick as the moment had been, he leaves the room and flicks off the light, a soft, “Goodnight, you big nerd. God, why are you so cute?” is spoken in a hushed tone. The door closes.   
“Oh my god, you should be asking why you’re so cute!” Scott murmurs to himself grinning, his eyes still closed, as he curls deep into the covers and goes back to sleep.   
Suddenly, he sits back up, now fully awake.   
“He left the pizza!!!”


End file.
